


Remember Me

by prince_rivailles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Longing, Lots of reminiscing, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Memories, Romance, Smut, Snk 115 spoilers, Suffering, canonverse, or more like unspoken relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prince_rivailles/pseuds/prince_rivailles
Summary: For the first time in over a year Eren remembers. Remembers what it’s like, remembers that Levi has always been the one--the only one--to make him feel more than anything and that hasn’t changed. He suspects it never will.





	1. Alive

**Author's Note:**

> If Eren found Levi in SNK 115... mostly canon compliant to the manga, but with slight variances. Major manga spoilers.

He remembers the first time they kissed. 

The way he had pressed his lips against his captain’s in uncertainty, his hands clammy as he grasped the edges of Levi’s cravat so tightly as if it was the last thing he would hold. Their lips had met like molten on ice, his heart a pulsing beat without rhythm terrified of rejection, terrified of the unknown. So fucking terrified and yet fueled both by the feelings he couldn’t hide any longer and the determination of what the other man had taught him before. It had seemed like the right thing at the time; feelings that had developed so forcefully that not even the logical sense of war could keep them away had seemed like as good as time as any. 

If he didn’t try, he would regret. Eren didn’t want to regret anymore, didn’t want to regret a thing--especially not with Levi. So he had made a choice.

_A choice with the least regret._

To this day, those sentiments had echoed in his head; words that had been worth applying to beyond war. Or because of war. Life was short--Eren knew that better than anyone. Knew and that’s why he had kissed Levi. Kissed him with the urgency and longing he had held back for too long. Kissed him in an attempt to soothe the ache in his chest even without knowing if his feelings were reciprocated--the ache that had inflamed inside of him until he could hold back those feelings no longer. Kissed him because where hatred had previously been the only feeling fueling him, Levi had changed that. 

So it’s no surprise that kissing Levi had been a breath of fresh air, a light that had broke through the darkness that had clouded him for so long, leaving but a sky that had shined so pure and bright above him, the horizon was infinite. Infinite and left with only the beauty that came with Levi.

Because Levi had always been something beautiful.

The first time Eren had looked up at those steel eyes, cold and aloof but with an undeniable determination that he had admired, he had known Levi was beautiful. Beautiful even when he had raged at the titans with eyes as dark as the demons were strong. Beautiful as Eren had leaned in and his captain’s eyes had widened just a fraction, the glimmer of grey flashing something he couldn’t place before they had shut and Eren’s had followed suit. 

Levi had kissed him back, his hands tugging against Eren’s waist with the same amount of unrefined urgency as their bodies pressed together. As if the other man had felt it too and Eren doesn’t think he could have ever asked for more.

To say he knew what he was doing would have been a lie, but his body had acted on its own. He knew then and there that regardless of what would happen it was a choice he would never come to regret. Not with the way that Levi’s tongue had slid across his own, mapping against his mouth, fingertips tracing along his sides and under his shirt, leaving a trail of desire so warm across the span of his back that Eren had never known someone’s touch could make him feel so _alive_. The thought that Levi had wanted him the same way had rendered his mind in a halting haze of desperation and his own fingers had pulled harshly at the cravat until it was loose and discarded somewhere on the floor. 

Levi’s shirt had gone next and he remembered thinking that perhaps his captain would scold him later, but if Levi had been bothered by Eren’s actions at the time, it hadn’t shown. Levi hadn’t stopped and instead his nails had scraped gently up Eren’s back, hands kneading against Eren’s tense muscles in a way that had caused him to arch into the touch. Eren had panted out against Levi’s mouth as their kiss broke and his own hands had traveled down to Levi’s belt, working furiously to take it off as he stared down at Levi, eyes half-lidded as he tried to grasp the implications of their actions. 

He remembered thinking then, how long had it been since he had wanted to kiss Levi? To have his captain make him feel like… this?

The only answer had been too long. Too fucking long.

And how many nights had he stayed awake, hardened into a shell haunted by the consequences of war that never left him be? Blood against his hands, death that he couldn’t even account for, the titans that had never stopped coming--and then learning about how the rest of the world had hated them too, still hated them for something that was out of their control--it had never been easy. 

Nothing about their lives had ever been easy. Still wasn’t, but to this day Levi had been the only one who had ever pushed aside those thoughts. The only one who had lead him to believe that the beauty of the world outweighed the cost of hurt even if it was but for a fleeting moment.

Fleeting and priceless. Those moments with Levi had never felt long enough and he was sure that they never would. Yet no matter how fleeting or how pressing they had always moved to feel each other’s skin against their own, their hands clawing so desperately to feel something, mind reeling to forget for the moment how much the world hurt, it had somehow always been enough. 

Enough for Eren to keep going, enough to pick himself back up. Enough to believe in himself, believe in his choices even if the people that mattered most to him would hate him. Even if it meant hurting the ones closest to him. He knew his actions would scream of betrayal, but all he could do was believe that at the end of the road, it would reflect that their trust hadn’t been misplaced no matter how it had seemed to be. 

Eren knew that there never was any other choice but himself; there was no one else. Even if the pain of doing so had cut so deeply that he had convinced himself that not feeling would be the only way to make it work, Eren would do it. 

Because loving Levi had always been easy. 

Even in the darkest moments of doubt, when hope was a waning candle that only grew dimmer, Levi had always been the constant that grounded him to believe that what he was fighting for was worth it. In a world that had cut with all its edges, Levi had always kept pushing forward, fighting for some unforeseeable freedom. Something Eren knew that the man would continue to fight for until his last dying breath. 

And that had been why Eren had done what he did. 

To save Paradis, he would have no choice but to live amongst the enemy, push aside his tendency to feel too much and become someone who didn’t let it dictate him. Someone who didn’t have feelings that would undermine his decisions to finally make it right. 

...

Eren’s eyes trace across Levi’s lithe body laying against the bed of one of the few houses in Shingashina that hadn’t been destroyed. It was the only place he could think of keeping Levi without letting anyone else find him. The silence of the abandoned district is eerie and does nothing to shut away the memories that had begun to surface the moment he had found Levi on the edge of the riverbed--a barely recognizable figure covered in grime and blood, so much fucking blood Eren had thought he was dead. But he’d recognize Levi in any state that he was in, he had no doubts about that. It was pure luck that no one had been with him then, that Eren was able to take Levi somewhere else, to keep him safe. He owed Levi that much at the very least.

Eren’s eyes close for a moment, his hands still shaking as he takes a moment to slow his beating heart, reminding himself to breathe.

And so he does--inhale, exhale--repeat. 

He remembers the first time Levi had pulled him into that tight embrace, whether he meant to or not Eren hadn’t been sure; it’s not as if he’d ever seen Levi hug anyone before. Somehow Levi’s silence, his calloused hands but gentle grasp, that lingering scent of peppermint tea that had settled over Eren when Levi had closed the gap, and the way he had looked at Eren with that crease between his eyes, but lips pressed shut in his way of not telling Eren that it would be fine had been more comforting than any of the words Armin and Mikasa had given him. More comforting than the solace of the night that he had found himself turning to more than he could count. Somehow, that unexpected action from Levi had been exactly what Eren needed. 

Levi was never a man of many words and Eren had never minded. He doesn’t think he ever will.

Not when they had somehow fallen into an unspoken relationship, not when Eren had finally confessed he loved him and Levi had said nothing. Eren remembers that day and the one three months later--because that’s how long it had taken before Levi had said those words back. 

Their bodies had tangled amongst the white sheets, the setting sun shining its last rays of dimmed orange hue into Levi’s room. Eren’s hand had carded absent-mindedly against Levi’s dark locks, eyes fixed against the open windows where the summer breeze danced through and caressed against their skin. He had been both content and conflicted with the feeling that things weren’t so simple. 

They never were.

It had been a day of celebration. The titans that had roamed freely outside their walls had at long last been eradicated and the people, not just the Survey Corps, had finally stepped beyond those walls. Eren had stripped out of his boots and stepped into the sand, the warm damp substance clinging to his skin as he had let the ocean waves brush between his toes. The dream that he had shared with Armin, the promise to see the ocean and its vastness had been better than he imagined.

He had never known something could be one color, but shimmer into a hundred different shades just with the reflection of the sun against its surface. How it had glimmered and rippled as he stared out across the water, not seeing anything beyond the horizon, but knowing what lay on the other side had been unreal. 

Stunning, unreal and… _unfreeing._

It was the day that they could finally shout beyond the walls without fear of titans hearing; it was supposed to be a day of freedom. He knew how momentous the day had been, that they had achieved what they had fought so long to do, but the feeling of being “free” hadn’t stuck. 

Eren hadn’t felt free. 

Hadn’t felt the freedom that he had always imagined would come with him stepping into the ocean for the very first time. Instead, his thoughts had spiraled down into how much knowledge they lacked about the rest of the world. How was it that they had come so far and freedom still remained so far out of reach? How was it fair that people they hadn’t even known existed hated their very existence and that the war that had gone on longer than he was born was far from over?

Eren’s hand had clenched against the smooth sheets beneath him, anger and energy thrumming through his body. All he wanted to do was to tell everyone to stop celebrating, to get up and start planning for the future, to--

“Eren.” 

Levi’s voice had interrupted him. 

He remembers that day as if it was yesterday. The soft lighting of the room and the cooling temperature of evening summers, the way his thoughts had halted in its impulsive tracks and his eyes shifted to Levi’s. Levi, who had now propped himself up and hovered so closely above Eren he had wondered how he hadn’t noticed the other man moving. 

“Yeah?” Eren had answered in curiosity, shifting his focus from his thoughts to the man before him.

Levi’s lips had parted, but no words came. Eren had waited patiently, unaware of what Levi would say, unaware of what the other was trying to say. More than a moment passed and Levi had offered no explanation, eyes tracing along the edges of Eren’s jaw and up to his eyes, staring so intently into those emerald-blue orbs. 

Still wordlessly, Levi had leaned down and closed the distance. Had kissed Eren and tangled his hand into the mess of hair, had broken the kiss and leaned down to Eren’s ear, teeth grazing against the edge of its shell before he whispered so earnestly, Eren had shivered from his sudden and sultry tone. 

“Fuck me,” Levi had breathed.

Levi’s voice was low and laced with something that Eren didn’t understand, but at the time he had thought that was all Levi had been trying to say and had welcomed it as it tore him away from where his thoughts had been headed. 

Eren had stared back at Levi, eyes darkening a fraction with interest at the way Levi had asked, his own lips turning up in that small smile as he realized that Levi had practically sat himself into his lap. Levi’s thighs had trapped Eren’s body between them and Eren had sucked in a breath as he took in the sight of Levi hovering over him, those plush asscheeks raised into the air, that perfect cock hanging in front of him and it really doesn’t take long for Eren’s blood to rush south.

Eren curled a hand against Levi’s half-hard erection next and Levi had hissed out so beautifully that Eren knew it was only Levi that could tear him away from those all consuming thoughts. Somehow he had always distracted him, had always found a way to pull Eren back to the present. A charm that had belonged to Levi and Levi alone. 

Eren stroked him slowly, teasingly until Levi’s cock had flushed a deep red, his eyes shut with pleasure written across his face. Somewhere between that time, Levi’s hand had trailed across Eren’s chest, tweaked at a nipple and palmed against Eren’s own growing arousal and Eren’s heart had picked up. Pleasuring Levi had never gotten old and watching the way his normally masked features turned to one of need turned Eren on more than anything else when he knew that he was the only one that could turn his captain this way.

Levi wasn't in a mood to be teased though.

“ _Come on Eren, fuck me_ ,” he had repeated impatiently as he thrusted himself harder against Eren’s hand, pre-cum smearing across Eren’s fingers. Eren had retracted his hand then, watched as Levi’s eyes had opened with desire clouding those usual silvers, and Eren had moved his fingers up to the edge of his own lips, tongue trailing across Levi’s pre-cum that coated his fingers.

Levi’s eyes had only darkened, mesmerized with Eren’s actions, soft pants already leaving those lips. When his hand had been sufficiently cleaned, Eren had turned toward the bedside table, looking to grab the vial of oil, but Levi’s fingers had caught his chin and turned him back to face the other man.

“I already did it,” he had answered in response to Eren’s confused look. Eren had blinked back at him, another moment passing before his eyes had widened, understanding dawning on him that Levi had already fingered himself when Eren had zoned out. Somehow that thought did more to him than he thinks it should.

Levi positioned himself above Eren’s erection then, guiding Eren’s cock into his already stretched hole.

“Look at you. You’re so fucking _hot_ , so fucking _beautiful_ sitting yourself on my cock,” Eren had breathed out as he felt the familiar tightness of Levi’s entrance engulfing around his cock. The feeling of entering Levi, being given the chance to be so intimate with Levi, was something that regardless of how many times it’s been always felt like the first time.

“About to get hotter,” Levi had panted out with a smirk before letting out a long wanton moan as he sat himself entirely onto Eren, Eren’s cock wide and deep inside of him in a way that he never could get enough of. He loves the way Eren stretches inside of him, the way his cock reaches places that Levi never could with his fingers, filling him up in ways that no one else ever did.

In ways that made him feel different. Whole. The same way that being in the younger man’s company often did. A bit like the emptiness that ate inside of him would go away. The same emptiness that plagued at his thoughts when he wasn’t out fighting for his life, fighting for freedom.

In some inexplicable way, Eren had always felt like freedom. How that made sense, he couldn’t explain even if he tried. That even if he knew they weren’t truly free, not when an entire country across the ocean were their sworn enemies, being with Eren had somehow always made it seem okay. That he wouldn’t mind the continuous fighting if it meant Eren would stick around and be that piece that he had always felt missing, that piece that would chase away the emptiness inside of him whenever he thought of his fallen comrades who had all yearned for that same freedom. 

He’s not certain when, not certain why, but somewhere down the line he had began to associate Eren with that freedom and in doing so, somehow, he hadn’t felt so empty, hadn’t felt so lost or trapped. Being with Eren had filled that void. 

Eren flipped them then, pinning Levi against the sheets in a way that Eren knew Levi loved with the way his moans grew louder, the flush of red tinting across his face and his nails digging against Eren’s biceps as Eren thrusted into him, setting a pace that would slowly undo him. 

It’s the loud cry of “ _Fuck, Eren_ ” that Eren knows he’s found the spot, angling his hips to grind his cock against deeper inside of Levi. Eren remembered thinking that Levi had been particularly loud that day, louder than he normally was even on days Eren had been the one fucking, and it only edged Eren on. His hand had snuck down to stroke Levi’s leaking member, thumb trailing around the sensitive head and then rubbing against the slit.

He remembered thinking about the first times they had been intimate, when Levi had always held back. Had always bitten his lips, Eren’s shoulder--anything he could get his hands and teeth on-- to silence himself when he came undone, whether that was before or after Eren. Eren hadn’t minded, found it particularly endearing if anything, but at some point during the months of their undefined intimacy Levi had slowly grew more open. Louder, unrestrained. And Eren had found that he liked that Levi more, the one that didn’t feel the need to hold back.

So that day, when Levi had actually screamed out Eren’s name for the first time, loud enough that he had no doubts anyone down the hall or outside would have heard them, Eren’s release had ripped out of him so suddenly, he had cried out and almost missed the way Levi’s wrecked voice had thrown out, “ _I love you Eren._ ”

There in his post-orgasmic state, his mind a haze of pleasure and heart overwhelmed by how vocal Levi had been as his hands continued to coax Levi into his release, Eren had blinked down so fondly at Levi beneath him, wondering if he had heard accurately at all. That he had heard more than Levi’s shout of his name. 

But the way Levi had looked at him as he found his release, his features soft and blissed out in that familiar and vulnerable way that Eren only ever saw in the confines of his room when it was just them, he knew without a doubt that he hadn’t heard wrong. 

_I love you Eren._

Levi had said it once. 

It had been enough.

Eren’s no stranger to the lack of words that come with Levi. It hadn’t been any different back then and he knows it wouldn’t be now. Perhaps it never would be, but seeing as the man can barely say anything because of the state that he’s in, not by choice, makes all the difference.

Eren takes in the state of Levi--the gash that runs so deep across Levi’s face surely to leave lasting eye damage, the shrapnel against those pale cheeks, the amount of blood that soaked through his clothes with wounds that marred the rest of his body and shit--even the lost of his fingers. He never imagined it would be like this.

Never imagined it would hurt to look at Levi. Not because Levi isn't beautiful anymore; Eren doesn’t think Levi will ever be anything but. With or without scars Levi will always be the most beautiful person that he’s ever laid eyes upon, but it’s almost too much. Too much to look into the face of the man that he had kissed so very long ago only to see an almost unrecognizable mess.

Eren exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, wet drops landing against the back of his hand. His hand that he had subconsciously clenched so tightly into a fist and turned white as his nails dug against the palm of his skin, his mind unable to comprehend the meaning behind those drops. The pain his nails should draw is nothing; he hardly notices. 

But it’s seeing Levi, beaten down to an unconscious state that has him wondering how even humanity’s strongest can be still be alive, can still be holding on the way that the faint pulse beneath his scarred wrist had confirmed to Eren that Levi was in fact alive, that Eren remembers.

For the first time in over a year Eren remembers. Remembers what it’s like, remembers that Levi has always been the one--the only one--to make him feel more than anything and that hasn’t changed. He suspects it never will. 

And so when he finally raises a shaking hand against his face, he realizes, too--it’s not raining, the roof isn’t leaking--the drops are his. 

How long has it been since he’s cried? 

A concept forgotten. Something akin to a distant memory when all he felt was the emptiness of being dead on the inside, forgetting entirely what it meant to even feel. Like suddenly stepping out of the fog that he had shrouded himself in for so long, somehow seeing Levi on the brink of death before him, unconscious and silent, partially because of him strikes something inside of Eren so suddenly he can’t help the tears that streamed down his face. The tears unrelenting as his vision blurs and he swipes the back of his hand across his eyes, only to have more drops take its place. Seeing Levi in such a state awakens something that he had thought he had lost, thought that he would never return to.

Reminds him that his feelings for Levi are more than he can hold back. More than he could ever fool himself into pretending. 

Because Levi had always been different, so very different and more than anyone else could ever come close to. 

The feeling of it almost steals his breath away, his heart heavy and overwhelmed. All of the feelings that he had repressed for over a year--about the people that mattered most to him, about Levi who he has almost forgotten what it’s like to kiss, about how he got to this point where he had convinced himself not feeling was the only way it would work--all of it floods through him and becomes too much as Eren cries, the tears tearing out of him like a storm that had held back for far too long. 

For the first time in over a year, Eren feels everything and remembers. Remembers what it means to feel. Remembers Levi.

Remembers that he’s _alive_ too.

He’s not sure what’s worse--having forgotten, or remembering now of all times.


	2. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's been more than a year," he croaks out, his voice cracking and showing more weakness than he wanted to, his fingers burying into the soft fabric of Eren’s shirt, nails clenched against it and digging into the skin beneath as he presses Eren harder into the wall.
> 
> Maybe it’ll hurt. 
> 
> He hopes it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's been shit and somehow I took 3 months to complete the last 10% of this chapter. I'm sorry. Hope it was worth the wait, but thanks for reading!

Levi stares at the last page of his book, his mind blinking over the question that he always found himself going back to whenever he finished a book--what did it ever mean for a story to have finished, to say that it has come to an end?

He suspects some would argue that a story ended when the characters lived happily ever after or when they died, but then who’s to say that there isn’t more to tell, that the characters death wouldn’t impact the lives of others? Or that the so called “happily ever after” wasn’t the end, not when they still had years to live, history to tell? Even worse were books that ended purposely vague, as if the characters were left standing in the aftermath of whatever they went through without knowing what came next. He supposes it’s the most believable though, that it’s not as if anyone knew where life would take them next, but it did nothing to quell his desire to know how someone could say that the story was over. And for better or for worse, recently he’s come to conclude that perhaps stories ended when characters no longer interacted and _that_ uneases him. 

Levi sighs, his eyes shifting away from the book at last to readjust to the world around him. Still, the question lingers, even as he knows that books never did give him an answer. That everytime he finished one he would wonder about the after, about whether the story had truly ended and how the author could tell. He knows realistically it’s their book, they can choose to end it however they wanted, but the _what if’s_ and _what happens next_ that he couldn’t help but think about had only ever left him feeling more confused.

Confused. Lost. 

He supposes it’s Eren’s fault. Eren’s fault that he had left Levi behind wondering if they would ever interact again, wondering if those words back then had meant anything. Wondering if those eyes would ever blink back at him or if that warm presence that had granted him enough to sleep more than a few hours would ever return. Eren’s fault that Levi wonders if he had seen the last of him, that their story had well and truly ended--his feelings, meaningless. 

Six words. 

It read, “I've gone to Liberio. I'm sorry." 

As if that had explained everything. As if Levi was supposed to just accept it. Let him go. Trust that it was the right thing to do. Trust that he’d come back. Trust that there would be more to tell, more to their story than whatever Eren had left behind. 

"Trust me," Eren had whispered to him so many times before, that unwavering determination deep within the grains of his eyes, those viridian orbs that shone so intensely sometimes Levi found himself holding his breath. Holding a breath he didn’t know why, lost only in the embers that gleamed so brightly within those eyes. Only exhaling when Eren would lean in and kiss him. Kiss him like it was his last breath, like it was their last kiss. Back then, he had wondered too, if it was.

Levi knows Eren’s always done everything the way he fought--without holding back, with his emotions so raw and honest across his face as if there was nothing he wouldn’t keep an open book, nothing he wanted to hide because the determination and stubbornness in his actions couldn’t be masked. It’s something Levi had always admired about Eren. That he could be so open and still learn to make it more than a weakness. If anything, over the years it had become the opposite--his strength. 

Throughout those years Levi had only watched Eren continue growing, becoming someone who was surer of his actions. Grew from the young boy who had been so filled with anger and vowed to slay all the titans to a man who Levi truly believed would save their kind, someone fitting of the name as humanity’s greatest hope. Someone who didn’t let his doubt show and perhaps Eren didn’t have any, didn’t doubt any longer, didn’t think about regretting his choices--something that Levi had echoed back at him so long ago when he told him to make a choice. To say that Levi had grown to respect Eren over the years would be an understatement, it had become so much more than that. 

Eren, who had always fought with everything he had, who gave it his all for the people he loved--the way he had loved Levi had felt no different. Or so he believed. Levi had been so sure before. So sure that when Eren had uttered those words that one night with the moon as the only source of light in their room, Eren’s face illuminated by the white-blue glow and Levi’s heart that had raced so madly in his chest, he had believed that Eren had loved him with everything he had even when he hadn’t deserved it.

Had believed it even when _he_ himself had remained silent, unable to find the words to repeat them back, even as his heart had already made up its mind. Fast forward to the months that followed, up until he finally said those words back, he had believed it. 

Until Eren had left.

And yet knowing that, knowing that Eren had made a decision and when he did there was no way anyone would change his mind, it had still hurt more than he could ever understand when he woke the next day to see that the other half of his bed had gone cold and Eren had left.

Left without a goodbye. 

Truth be told, Levi doesn’t think he would have been alright even if Eren had said goodbye. Perhaps it would have been worse, harder. Perhaps they would’ve parted on harsher words, more angry. Or as he likes to entertain, however unrealistic he knew the idea was, perhaps he would have convinced Eren to let Levi go with him.

Maybe that was why he’d felt so lost. 

His hand had curled and uncurled against that tiny piece of paper so many times it had been wrinkled and barely legible by the time he had finally stopped. It would be two weeks before he even spoke to anyone else about it. 

Mikasa had been furious. Panic and anger reflected in her features as she glared so harshly at Levi, if he had been anyone else he may have flinched. Instead, Levi had given her a pointed look when she has asked why he didn’t say anything sooner, why he had kept that secret with him for two entire weeks, as if that would have mattered. Levi’s words had been cold, colder than he had meant for them to sound, but it’s not like he had liked the idea either. It’s not like he had been onboard with Eren’s plan. Clearly, Eren had knew that too.

“Even if I had told you two weeks ago, do you really think there was anything we could have done to stop him? You know better than anyone that when Eren makes up his mind it hardly matters what we think.” 

Mikasa had turned silent, but her eyes flashed with enough pain and unmistakable fear that he had briefly wondered if his own eyes reflected the same. Likely not, but his heart had definitely felt it. The same fear that Mikasa had held and shown so clearly in Armin’s arms when he had held Mikasa back because “fighting with Levi wasn’t going to change anything”. 

His expression had softened then, giving them one last look as he turned back to his quarters. He’s not sure what made him say the next words, not sure if it had meant to comfort and convince them or himself. Himself and his heart that had shuttered in ways he never thought it would.

“All that we can do is trust him. Trust that he’s made the choice he’ll least regret.” 

Eren’s plea of “ _trust me, Levi”_ had echoed in his head as he said those words. The words that had been so similar to the ones he told Eren when he had been so less sure of his decisions. How strange it was how quickly time passed, he swears it was just yesterday when Eren had been that young recruit. 

...

The days turned warm and long again before Levi would finally hear from Eren. Ten months of leaving them, leaving _Levi_ in the dark uncertain of whether Eren had even been alive. Holding the piece of paper that Eren had touched, knowing that the other man was alive--it had Levi’s stomach turning in ways that he knew was not just because he had barely touched dinner. With the sunlight still out into the late hours of the evening, Levi had sat by the windowsill of his room, body growing numb from the way he had sat in the same position for over an hour, hands cold as he barely believed that the letter in his hand was _actually_ from Eren. 

It’s the familiarity of the messy scrawl and the way it had been written though that he knew couldn’t have been from anyone else. The letter that had been addressed to him, but for the rest of the Survey Corps about Eren’s plan, about Zeke’s true intentions, that Eren needed them to believe in him _and_ Zeke for it all to work. That they would have to attack Marley, play along and make it seem as though they would capture Zeke and at long last, that Eren would return home.

_Home._

He knows how many times they’ve risked the lives of anyone and everyone for the sake of Eren, that every time Eren had been kidnapped in the past, the lives of countless had been sacrificed to retrieve him. Levi knows this and also knows that without a moment's hesitation that he would do it again. That he always would and that however doubtful the Survey Corps had grown over Eren’s choice to place himself in enemy grounds alone, and however more distrust that would surely grow once they saw the contents of this letter, that at the very least--they would do it one more time. 

Because he believed in Eren and if they didn’t have humanity’s greatest hope, what did they have? The limited strength of the Survey Corps that had never rebuilt their numbers? Strange technology they had acquired and meager alliances with foreign countries that didn’t want to help them without gain? 

Eren was their greatest hope. Levi had believed that years ago even before they knew what the “founding titan” had meant and even now, with Eren an entire ocean away from him in enemy territory and pleading them to work with whom he had sworn to kill--Zeke of all people--Levi believed it all the same. 

So tomorrow, he would pass on the letter to the rest of the Survey Corps, go along with Eren’s plan, but for now? He clutches at the letter, feels the smooth surface of the paper against his skin and settles for the small comfort in knowing that Eren had written those words, that Eren was _alive_. He knows it’s selfish, knows that the others deserve to hear from Eren too, but he wanted to be selfish just this once. 

"I'd have followed you into the end of the world if you had asked,” Levi whispers into the open air to no one in particular. As he watched the setting sun, he wonders too, if Eren was watching the same sun as he. 

…

It would be one year and two weeks later from the time that Eren had first left Paradis before Levi would see him again on that airship. At long last, Eren in the flesh with hair too long, eyes clouded with that look that he had only ever seen in himself and the world underground all those years ago, his body covered in unimaginable filth and Levi swears his heart had broken all over again. 

It had taken all that he had not to break his composure then when Eren had addressed him as “Captain”. Instead, Levi had kicked him, commented on how filthy he looked, how easy he still was to kick and maintained that masked expression he always had. 

But Eren hadn't reacted then. The man who had once expressed more emotions and feelings in his eyes and body language than Levi thought any one person was capable of had over the course of a year somehow became someone who didn’t react. Someone who looked as if they didn’t feel.

That alone had made Levi’s blood run cold--Eren not reacting to Levi kicking him down because he had expected it, had known Levi so well that he knew it was coming and let it happen, or that Eren hadn't reacted because he didn't care, knew that he deserved it.

That Eren was so dead inside it didn’t matter-- _Levi_ didn’t matter.

And all Levi could do was stare helplessly at a man who looked so lost, so closed off from the world and Levi couldn’t help him. Knew that Eren wouldn’t let him, not when the other had looked at him without seeing, had looked right through him as if Levi was just another insignificant speck. 

…

When Levi wakes, he thinks he’s still caught up in his own nightmare as he feels the way that everything is wrong before he even remembers. Knows with the way his body pains with every movement, his head pounding worse than it’s ever been and something against his face blinding part of his vision. It’s not until he reaches a hand against his face, claws at the strange patch that covers his eye, that his memories flood back to him--Zeke turning his comrades all into titans, Levi killing them all and then _almost_ Zeke. 

Zeke should have been dead, Levi should have sliced his head--gaining the beast titan’s powers be damned--but he had held back, had somehow thought that Zeke wouldn’t try to explode them both. The explosion of the thunder spear that had sent him hurtling through the air, the cry of Zeke and the explosion ringing in his ears. Levi remembers landing into the river, the pain so unbearable, the cold had been shockingly the only thing that had kept him conscious as he had used the last of his strength to crawl himself towards the edge of the riverbank. The pain and blood loss had claimed him next and all Levi could do was lie there, feeling as though his body was on fire, face resting against the wet grounds, barely conscious as he hung onto some invisible thread between life and death. He had wondered then--was that what death felt like?

No flashes of his life before his eyes, no one by his side, no lingering feelings of regrets, only the thoughts that he had been taken out by that disgusting beast before he had even made it back to Eren. Or more accurately, before Eren had made it back to him. _..if_ Eren had ever planned to. Somehow, lying there with the rain pelting against his back, the smell of mud mingling with his own blood almost as overwhelming as the numbing pain that had spread across his body, he had once again returned his thoughts to Eren.

With some irony, he had thought that even up to his last moments, of course his thoughts would be of Eren, the burning question he still didn’t have an answer to. Like some cliche out of a novel, he still didn't understand why that question mattered so much--that after an entire year, he still wonders. He doesn’t know what’s worse--that he still loves Eren or that he still trusts him the way that the other man had pleaded with him to. Even now when his comrades had deemed Eren a traitor, the very brother that Eren was supposedly working with blowing Levi to pieces and perhaps most naively--even when he questions whether Eren ever loved him when last time he’d barely looked at Levi--Levi knows that given a heartbeat to decide, he’d still trust him.

It was the feeling of the ground beneath him, the earth strangely soothing as thoughts of Eren had settled around him like the only warmth in the rain that he blacked out, believing that it would be his end. 

Apparently not. 

Levi’s thoughts return to the present, his one eye darting between the surroundings of the dark room, his hand reaching against the surface of what seemed to be a bed. It certainly wasn’t his own, nor was it a familiar place, but someone had bandaged him up. He winces as he struggles to push himself up enough to sit, his body protesting, but mind screaming to find out what was going on before he blacked out again. Perhaps it’s pure will of panic that he pushes through the pain enough to sit up against the bed, stretching his bandaged arm out to reach blindly for his surroundings even as he knows he won’t be able to make it out of bed, let alone anywhere else. 

His initial deduction is that he’s been captured, that the enemies are keeping him alive for whatever reason, until his hand brushes against the surface of a bedside table. More specifically, the handle of a sword that lays beside the single candle he now sees in the dark. Not hesitating, he reaches out for the match besides the candle to light it up, only halting with a sickening feeling of shock when he realizes what he’s missing--two fingers.

_Shit._

He had forgotten about that. Or maybe he hadn’t realized post-explosion, not when he had been in so much pain that he had thought he had died back there on the riverbank. Thinking back now, perhaps he had regained consciousness at some point when a pair of warm hands had picked him up, but he had only thought that was a dream, a dream where warmth wasn’t so far out of reach. 

Levi stills, barely daring to know what other damages the rest of his body had taken as he begins to slowly move his limbs, only sighing out in somewhat relief as he’s able to move all the fingers on his other hand and his legs. Although if the jolting pain in his leg was anything to go by, he suspects he didn’t leave unscathed there, either. That and his eye was still an unknown factor.

Still, he had expected to be dead. With some struggle of using the remaining fingers and his other uninjured hand, Levi manages to light the candle. The room lights up to reveal a small cabin, not entirely a mess, but certainly dirty and seemingly abandoned as if no one had been there in years. The only window by the door is almost out of view by the small wall that divides the entrance from the rest of the place. Levi wrinkles his nose in disgust, the urge to clean the place overwhelming. 

He hears nothing, the world still and for a heartstopping moment he worries that he’s gone deaf _too_ , before he hears the soft sound of his own breathing and the rustle of small movements he makes on the bed. Levi raises his hand and traces a finger over the smooth surface of the blade, surprised about its placement. If he still had his weapon, an unusually clean blade at that, then surely he wasn’t being held captive.

Levi’s eye settles on the other items on the bedside table: a folded up cloak, a glass of water, painkillers he can recognize, a cloth wrapped around something round. He picks up the clothed item with his good hand and unravels it slowly, mind still trying to piece together what it all meant. That if he was here and if he wasn’t a captive, had that meant that it was no longer safe in their headquarters? He supposes it’s possible, with the way Eren had broken out of jail, some word of his followers taking over when he had been given the order that Eren had been out of control and with the chance that Zeke was still around, but the question of _who could have saved him_ remains.

Staring at the bread that now sits on the cloth he’s picked up, Levi’s stomach turns in a mixture of hunger and pain. He’s not certain when the last time he’d eaten was, let alone how long he’s been out. Even with the thought of his blade his by his side, that whoever had saved him shouldn’t be an enemy if they had left him a weapon, he hesitates to eat it, hesitates to drink the water as he remembers how Zeke had been so interested in whether the wine had been all consumed, only then to turn his comrades into titans. Levi had only been able to deduce then that the wine had been poisoned. _How_ , he didn’t know.

Levi shakes off the feeling of distrust and takes a bite of the bread, realizing it’s not as though he has much choice with the way his body felt too weak and painful to do more than shift around the bed slowly. He manages to consume half of the bread before his jaw protests at its usage, the sting against his face not taking too kindly to the movements of chewing. Wrapping up the remaining portion of the bread, he returns to stare at the glass of water.

He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to drink anything he’s not certain of, but the water is clear and rationally, he knows he needs water to survive and in the state he was in, it’s not as if he could get water elsewhere. Cautiously, he takes a sip, letting the taste of it settle around his parched tongue before he swallows, it’s familiar and flavorless taste reassuring him. Levi gulps down half of its content too, before he winces again and sets the glass down.

Levi exhales a shuddering breath into the silent room, willing his pulse to settle down before he blows out the candle. It’s not long before he’s back to laying against the bed, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat, his eyes falling shut in the darkness and succumbing to the pain that beckons him into unconsciousness once more. 

…

Two weeks passed by with Levi doing nothing more than falling between the state of unconsciousness when the pain was too much and he’d reluctantly take the painkillers by his nightstand and waking up when the effects would wear off, barely moving more than to piss or shit in the bucket by his bed--not by choice, but by the lack of strength and pain that twinged in his limbs everytime he tried to move further. It’s disgusting and he feels useless, but luckily for him, every time he wakes the bucket has been cleaned, odorless. The same way that the cabin had slowly became cleaner, the dust cleared off the counters, the air less musty. His wounds have occasionally been addressed too and he’s noticed the bandages and medicine that has been left by his side. Despite the time that passes, he never sees another soul, never hears of anyone in the vicinity--as if whoever who cleaned and looked after him, left him food, water and medicine by the nightstand didn’t exist. 

Or didn’t want to be seen.

It’s concerning, but he also knows that there was nothing he could do at this point than to rest and heal, bide his time until slowly the wounds across his body were less severe. He knows how painkillers works, knows that it’s probably what’s keeping him knocked out when the stranger comes, but he also knows eventually the pain will become more bearable. It’s only his eyepatch that he hasn’t touched, the way that his eye stung beneath the patch still too painful and too soon to check the damage. Even with his mind set on expecting the worse, Levi’s not certain he wants to confirm it yet.

By the end of the first month that passes, Levi finally climbs out of bed, the lack of usage from his limbs making him weak, the feeling almost foreign as he steps onto the floor hesitantly. As he suspected, the pain in one of his legs causes him to limp, the majority of his strength rested on his other leg, but he’s able to stand at the very least. Slowly, he drags himself to the window, peering out into the world but almost not daring to open the door and step outside. Not when he’s barely able to walk. 

It’s as abandoned as he thought, the world outside just as quiet and empty as the cabin and he supposes, it’s probably why no one has came to kill him yet. Levi breathes out a sigh, and then forces himself to limp around the rest of the small cabin in an attempt to get used to walking again. Limping his way over to the bookshelf with some dusty books, he picks one up for the sake of passing time. The dust settles against his fingertips and he grimaces, but blows it off before returning back to the bed with the book.

Levi doesn’t manage to read further than a chapter before his eyes grow tired and body aches to lay back down and so he does, placing the book by his nightstand and letting his eyes fall shut. He’s probably slept or fell into unconsciousness due to the pain more times in the past month than he’s ever had in years. 

The time that passes while Levi heals is almost stagnant. He hears no news of what’s going on, would have no idea if everyone had been wiped off the face of the island, or the world for that matter. All he knows is that someone had saved him, the very same person who continued to ensure Levi’s survival, but managed to slip in only when Levi was asleep. 

…

It would be another month before Levi leaves his candle unlit one night. Levi grips at his sword with his uninjured hand and stands behind the wall that separates the entrance from the rest of the cabin, ignoring the pain in his leg at having to stand for an extended period of time; he’s still not used to it. It’s not certain how long he waits and waits, his breath soft, his movements still, barely daring to move for fear that whoever it was would not come if they knew that he was awake. But the mystery had gone on for too long and he needs to know, whoever it was.

Levi remains tense as he waits, sure that the hours had dimmed into the early morning of the night by now when he finally hears the faintest footsteps from outside. Waiting in the dark unsure of who or what approaches isn’t unfamiliar to Levi, he’s done it plenty of times in the past when he waited for titans, when he treaded carefully on missions, but confronting whoever it was after all this time still sits uneasily with him. He’s not naive to think that just because they’ve saved him they can be trusted.

Levi holds his breath as the footsteps reach closer and behind the door he hears the careful twist of the knob, the old wooden frame creaking as it slowly pushes open just wide enough for a figure to slip in. The figure shuts the door behind him and Levi hears the distinct swipe of a match. In that moment he knows he has a split second to react before the room will light up and his shadow will give him away. As the stranger swipes the match into the lantern and lights up the room, Levi steps out from behind the wall and shoves the stranger against the cabin walls, Levi’s blade pressed against their neck.

The lantern drops with a bang to the floor, the light rolling against the ground as the shadows dance across the room. For a second, the stranger attempts to react and Levi shoves them harder into the wall, his leg and body protesting at its harsh usage and sudden combat stance he’s no longer used to. Levi ignores the blinding pain from the lack of painkillers in his body to focus on keeping the stranger trapped. He releases the breath he held and finally dares to look up.

The room stills in silence save for the pants of breaths Levi takes, the body beneath him no longer struggling as Levi’s eyes widen.

“You’re not as strong as you used to be,” Eren voices softly. It’s not an insult, not a threat, but more of an observation. One that sounds pained, or maybe that was just Levi’s ears, playing tricks on him. The same way he briefly wonders if somehow the painkillers from the days past were still in his system and his eyes were messing with him. 

Except the voice is unmistakable. 

Levi wants to punch him, his eyes narrowing slightly at that comment, his thoughts just barely wrapping around the idea that it had been _Eren_ who had saved him, but at the same time _how could he had not guessed?_

His arm doesn’t loosen against Eren’s chest, nor does the grip against his blade, but Eren doesn’t looked worried, only blank and a hint of sadness as he looks down at Levi.

The feelings that flood so instantaneous back into him when he realizes it’s Eren before him hits him harder than he thinks it ever should. He wants to say he’s surprised. Almost.

But he supposes even when he had tried not to think about Eren, when he had had nothing to do in the past two months except sleep, eat, and read--the back of his mind had always lingered on the thoughts of Eren, but not daring to venture further and entertain that thought. Yet seeing him here, pressed against the wall somehow ignites an anger in him that he had forgotten.

An anger that burns like wildfire spreading across his body and he only just realizes just how fucking _pissed_ he’s been all along. Beneath all those feelings and longing he’s kept to himself, being alone with Eren so close they’re touching, he’s inexplicably angry.

Levi says nothing in response to Eren’s comment, still silently fuming and about to lash out when Eren asks suddenly, “You still have that?”

Levi follows Eren’s gaze to the key that dangles around his neck, that bronze metal that had grown into a weight he barely noticed, its comfort having been more nostalgic than purposeful. He knows he shouldn’t have kept it, knows he should have let it go just like his feelings back when the months had blurred into the next with no word from Eren.

“How could I not?” Levi asks, voice sounding hurt and it’s that hurt he recognizes in his own tone that makes him angrier. 

One year. Three months. Four days. And god too many hours. 

To say he kept count, to say he was counting the days until Eren would come back to him was so uncharacteristic of him and yet here he was, knowing the exact time that had passed since Eren’s absence if his calculations of how long he’s been injured was correct. 

Finding solace in the one thing he shouldn't have been doing, but finding himself doing it anyways. Because he couldn't do anything else. Because he trusted Eren, but it didn’t make it any easier.

"Why are you here? Why now?” Levi demands, his fist clenched and itching with energy to do something. Anything.

“Was that all it took, all this time? Me to be brushed with a near death experience for you finally show your face? To finally come here and...and…do what exactly?"

"It's been more than a year," he croaks out, his voice cracking and showing more weakness than he wanted to, his fingers burying into the soft fabric of Eren’s shirt, nails clenched against it and digging into the skin beneath as he presses Eren harder into the wall.

Maybe it’ll hurt. 

He hopes it does. Hopes it hurts as much as the way his heart tugged in all the wrong directions when he had woken up and realized that Eren had left over a year ago. Hopes it hurts the way he had when he had done nothing but stare in a daze, gaze shifting between the emptiness of his sheets and the crumpled piece of paper in his hand that had remained abused for two weeks before he had even said a word to anyone else. 

He hopes Eren hurts the way he does now, like his heart was being clenched too tightly, breath short and adrenaline coursing through his veins, mind filled with a thousand questions that had no answers, fingertips lit with both the desire to hurt and feel. But above all, he hopes it hurts like the burning question that remains at the tip of his tongue, waiting to drop and spill from his lips that he pressed shut so tightly. The question that had etched itself so gravely into his thoughts the entire time that Eren had been gone like a memory that wouldn’t fade--the one thing he would never forget. The one question that he would never dare ask, let alone breath out loud.

He still doesn’t dare. Can’t. Won’t.

Levi swears his heart thuds so loudly, the feeling so heavy against his chest that there was no way in hell Eren couldn’t hear it, couldn’t feel the way that Levi had to bite his tongue so hard not to whisper those words. He doesn’t dare. Couldn’t, but there’s nothing stopping the way it repeats in his mind. 

_Back then, when you said it_ \-- _did you mean it?_

_Did you mean it Eren?_

But he says nothing. Says nothing and only watches as Eren blinks back at him. Even now, he’s hardly showing anything in that face of his. Even close up, Eren gives almost nothing away--not when he had stepped into the cabin, not when he had asked Levi if he still had the key and not now even after Levi’s emotions got the best of him. It’s almost like how he’s always been so good at remaining impassive, except Levi can’t keep his mask on this time. 

He used to be someone who didn’t know how to express his feelings, didn’t know how to react the way he supposes normal people did. It was Eren who had pointed that out, Eren who had been patient and told him, “I never minded, but when I see the real you behind that mask you’re always wearing...it’s well…nice.” 

He’d like to say the same, except it _isn’t_ nice and he doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t want to believe that the boy who had taught him to feel had become nothing but a shell. Another burst of anger ripples through him and he realizes just how tightly he’s clenching Eren’s shirt, the wrinkles forming as he bundled up the fabric in his fist. 

Levi wouldn’t say he’s a man of violence even if he knows some would disagree; he’s always been practical, calculated, but ruthless when he needs to be. Sure he lashed out with violence as a resort when he had to be, but...generally speaking, he’d say he wasn’t. He supposes this is one of those times when he is though because he almost loses it when it comes to Eren. When it comes to _this._ He supposes Eren’s always drawn out the most from him, always made him react differently and he should have known them meeting again, truly being faced to faced without spectators wouldn’t be any different.

“Fuck you Eren! Don’t you have anything else to say?” The loudness of his own voice surprises even him and visibly he sees Eren flinch. Relief passes over him for a moment as he realizes that Eren reacted and he’s about to go on, shout again, but he’s afraid. Afraid that once he starts he won’t be able to stop and --

“What do you want me to say?” It comes out almost in a whisper and Levi is shocked. Shocked because he almost misses the way Eren’s voice trembles, the flicker of hurt rippling through his eyes when Levi looks hard enough that reminds him of the fearless boy who had hurt so badly years ago when he had wordlessly pulled him into an embrace. 

He hadn’t known what came over him, but back then he could see the hurt in Eren’s eyes, how he was both fearless and so afraid and hugging him was all Levi could offer.

Or so he had thought. 

A moment passes. At this point, he isn’t even sure what he wants to hear.

“I don’t know,” Levi answers honestly and really, even when he was the one demanding Eren to say something, he’s not even sure what he wants to hear right now. Or what he _needs_ to hear that could possibly make it better except--Levi deviates from that thought, willing himself to stop going down that road, but seeing Eren react, a dab of emotion however faint in Eren’s face has him hanging by a thread. The shred of hope that maybe, just maybe Eren’s not so far away.

Instead, he bites out, “You could start by explaining yourself...the year you were gone. What happened?” 

As if he didn’t even need to consider it, Eren just shakes his head, but when he speaks, his voice sounds as broken as Levi looks and Levi has to wonder how it ever ended up like this. How the man who had once worn his emotions and everything about him on his sleeves, an open book that Levi could always read ended up like this. “I can’t tell you. Not...not when it’s not clear yet.” 

He wants to be angry, so fucking angry again and he’s suddenly dropping his blade to the floor and using both hands to shove Eren harder against the wall, his fists bunching up the collar of Eren’s shirt and holding against his neck. “So...what? I’m suppose to just trust you? Has it escaped your notice that there’s a raging war not just against the rest of the world, but within our own walls of Paradis? I don’t care what other people are saying Eren, and I know you don’t either, but when the military’s plan is to have someone eat you because they think you’ve lost control, that you’re beyond reason, I’d say it’s gone too far, wouldn’t you?”

Suddenly he’s snapping again, repeating the question he had thrown out earlier, his own voice sounding distant and rough even to his own ears, “Eren, why the fuck did you come here?”

His heart skips a beat, the uncertainty and the way he felt his world was balanced on a tittering edge waiting to drop or land, overwhelming.

“You aren’t supposed to...die,” Eren murmurs, his eyes that glimmering teal-blue that Levi has only stared into all too many times. “You’ve always been the most important to me.”

This time, the emotional pain within them is as clear as they were that day before Eren had left. He hadn’t understood it then, hadn’t grasped that Eren had said goodbye--perhaps not vocally, but in his own way, in his body language and reflected in his eyes. Levi only understands it now, as Eren’s eyes mirror the same ones back then and he has to wonder what it is that Eren sees when he looks at him. 

The same way he wonders what it is Eren sees or saw that he can’t even tell _him_. He wonders too, how it’s fair that humanity’s greatest hope was able to capture his heart so easily, that even now hearing the words that he _was the most important_ was something he wanted to grab onto, however doubtful he felt.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Levi retorts. “But really, _Jaeger_? _I’m_ the most important to you?”

The pained look in Eren’s eyes doesn’t go away, only seeming to further settle into his features. “It’s the truth, whether you believe it or not, whether you still trust me or not.”

_Trust me._

Even when the other man wouldn’t confide in him and his actions were questionable at best, here he was even understanding that he might’ve lost Levi’s trust. But Levi knows too, that the world isn’t so black and white, that even if Eren had wandered down the gray and it had been his own words just a moment before about how he was supposed to just trust Eren, he wanted to believe that the Eren who had asked him to _trust him_ so long ago, was still there, still fighting for the same goal as Levi. 

So maybe it’s true--he isn’t as strong as he used to be. The next words are more broken than anything. One that Levi thinks has never left him feeling so vulnerable before, so barren as he stood there before the one person he had ever fallen for--the only person that has ever made him want to hurt and kiss all at the same time--as if the way those complex emotions that had settled within Levi was something he was supposed to understand. The overwhelming need to say it, whisper those words that had haunted him since. The words that had haunted him when he heard nothing for a year and then finally when he had received that letter from Eren telling them to meet him in Liberio. Words that continued to haunt him when he saw Eren again for the first time on that airship and he hadn’t met Levi’s eyes.

Eyes more stunning than the ocean had ever been to Levi and they didn’t meet Levi’s eyes. 

One year. Three months. Four days. 

Levi exhales, his voice no more than a whisper, his eyes falling shut as he rests his forehead against Eren’s collarbone, feeling the way Eren’s heart beat so soothingly beneath him the way it had back then. Even now. As if nothing had changed. As if time had never passed.

He doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Foolishly, he almost wants to believe that it hasn’t changed, that Eren had never left and feeling the other man against him even as he wants to continue being angry, all that he finds is a sense of resignation inside of him, the anger dissipating. 

Resigned. Desperate. Levi doesn’t have it in him to hold it back anymore, not with Eren this close. So even as it takes everything in him then to finally breath those thoughts aloud, ironic as it was that they had also been waiting to spill out, it was still impossibly hard.

“What you said...what you _always_ said...before you left back then,” Levi exhales slowly and closes his eyes as he finally breathes, “did you mean it?”

For a moment he’s met with silence. Silence that makes his heart hammer in fear and clench ever the more painfully against Eren’s shirt. Silence that feels like he’s finally allowed his feelings to be crushed the way he had feared, the way he had expected even when he had believed without an ounce of doubt back then. Even when he still trusted Eren to this day with the fate of their world despite attempting to insist otherwise. Trusted him, but not enough to trust Eren wouldn’t break his heart again.

He shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have asked. Should have known better. It’s been a year and so much has happened. Eren isn’t...his Eren anymore, he doesn’t--

Eren’s voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t hesitate as he answers, “Yes.” 

And maybe it was all in Levi’s head how long the moment had been because for a stunning second, Levi wonders if he imagined it. But Eren isn’t done and he repeats it, doesn’t hesitate on his next words either as he continues, his hands tightening around Levi’s waist, around his arm and the way Eren’s breath ghosts against the top of his head is almost too much. He doesn’t dare breathe. 

“Yes. I meant it then. I meant it while I was away, I meant it when you saw me on that airship and I mean it now.” Eren sounds anguished, like speaking those words out loud had been something he too had been holding back and perhaps it had been, perhaps by some slimmer of odds, they hadn’t grown so far apart after all. “Levi, I haven’t stopped-- I didn’t… I’ll never stop meaning it.”

The words that he had been waiting to hear for so long--when Eren finally says them, he’s almost taken aback. Back to his quarters, the windows wide open and smell of flowers filtering through, the loving caress of Eren’s fingertips against his back tracing incoherent patterns and shapes that had been oddly soothing. The feeling back then that even when their war and fight for freedom was far from over, things hadn’t seemed so bad.

Eren’s smile had been warm then. So very warm like the early summer evenings and the gentle breeze that settled over the air, that settled against his soul. It means as much to him as it did back then and hearing those words now seems like all he needs to feel as though his trust in Eren as humanity’s greatest hope hasn’t been misplaced, however irrational it was to base his trust on love. But he also knows that realistically that’s not the case, that he trusts Eren _because_ it’s Eren, because of the person he used to be, the person he undoubtedly beneath that cold exterior, still was. 

Levi’s fingers release against the fabric beneath them as he lets out a shuddering breath just above a whisper, “I trust you, Eren.”

Even now, as Eren sounds more sad than anything, the way he reassures him, Levi knows is sincere. 

“I love you, Levi.”

For now, it’s enough. 


End file.
